


“You thought I didn't like you?”

by FeralCreed



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/F, Feels, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, I'm so tired, M/M, and i just had like this feels explosion, h/c, i may have tried to make parts of this angsty, i'll update the tags once i remember what sleep is, idek, kind of, stevetonysam if you kinda squint, with winterhawk at the epicenter and
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 14:48:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11359659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeralCreed/pseuds/FeralCreed
Summary: Clint figures out that praising or bribing Pietro will do wonders towards his desire to work with him. And then things turn surprisingly friendly between them due to a mistake.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [feathertail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/feathertail/gifts).



Clint doesn't consider himself very good at reading people. Aggression, intent to kill, uncertainty, fear – he knows those, hell, he's felt all of them. But when it comes to his teammates? He doesn't know if Natasha is planning his death or if she just felt like smiling at him. It kind of help that Cap trusts him to not screw things up, but on the other hand, that's also a lot of responsibility. He doesn't like that, and in fact, he's sort of made a habit of running away from anything that means he has to deal with things he doesn't want to.

 

But thing is, he kind of likes having to deal with Pietro. The kid is cocky beyond all belief, but he also has a lot of potential and a lot of proof that he's tough. He literally survived getting killed on his first Avengers mission. If that doesn't point to some inner strength, he doesn't know what does. Clint just needs to figure out _how on earth_ he's supposed to talk to him... and he has exactly zero ideas.

 

So he does what he does best. He finds a perch and he watches. Watches Pietro shy away from Tony, glare at Steve but obey him, wrap his sister in a hug at least four times a day, show a suitable amount of terror when Natasha tells him to drop the ice cream and back away. And finally, on the second full day of watching him, Clint figures it out. Pietro grabs something Natasha left in her room when she mentions missing it, and after fixing him with a death glare for a moment, she begrudgingly tells him him 'thanks' and 'good job'. Pietro lights up like Las Vegas neon. Okay, maybe not quite that visibly, but Clint's been watching him. He can read his emotional state better than anyone else in the Tower besides his sister, probably.

 

And honestly, once he'd gotten the first few pieces into place, it hadn't been hard. Pietro likes being the center of attention when it's people he knows and he can get something out of it. He wants to be rewarded for what he does, and otherwise, he loses interest quickly. Kind of like Stark, really, or at least the public media version of Stark. Clint knows he knows how to deal with him now. This will be easy. And it doesn't hurt that the kid isn't exactly tough to look at.

 

He corners Pietro the next day. Well, sort of, because the kid could be out the door before Clint finished falling over. “I'll give you, like, half my pot of coffee if you help me find it.” He'd been planning on getting Pietro to help him somehow, he just wasn't expecting to have lost his damn coffeepot. Brushing his hair back out of his eyes after the speedster disappears, he huffs out a sigh. Living with professional spies and thieves was just annoying sometime.

 

Some few seconds after he finishes that thought, Pietro shows up holding his coffeepot. “You. Are. Awesome.” He makes grabby hands at the pot, and the kid seems pacified enough by the blatant praise that he hands it over. Clint's just a little too tired to care about the fact that he's feeding the younger man's ego, probably unnecessarily. But coffee.

 

“You better leave my half for me, Barton,” Pietro says, and speeds away.

 

Clint nicks one of Tony's expensive coffee mugs, scrawls Pietro's name across the side in permanent marker, and leaves it sitting on the middle of the countertop. The billionaire's shriek of horror at the defacement is loud enough to be heard in half the Tower. Even if Jarvis rats him out, it's worth it. And he just knows he hears Pietro laughing from somewhere.

 

Having figured out how to get the kid to listen to him, the next step is to get him to actually obey. Clint knows that he can yell orders until he's blue in the face and do jack shit for the team if nobody does as told. Everyone listens to Cap, because you can't not, but the archer is just slightly determined to figure out this enigma that Pietro is. Far be it from him to pass up staring at those abs under the cover of a mission.

 

But he starts realising that Pietro is more than a pretty face and killer body. He makes his sister hot chocolate every night, catches stuff that people accidentally drop, snarks at them for forgetting things but hands said items right over when asked. When a little kid bets that he's faster than him, Pietro races him and loses on purpose. Clint remembers that look on Pietro's face from playing around with his older brother when they were kids, remembers the grin years into adulthood when he'd realised Barney had thrown the results of their contests almost every time.

 

“All right, let's wrap it up,” he yells after yet another training session. The team usually gravitates toward the fridge, but this time Pietro beats them to it. He bolts there and back, with an armload of cold Gatorade bottles. “Good thinking, Pietro, thank you.” While the speedster's mouth curls up in a smirk, he thinks he sees something a little more like genuine appreciation in his eyes. Hopefully this team and this tower are becoming a family and a home to him.

 

“So you've got a crush,” Natasha says. They talk all the time, but it's usually not when he's going back to his bed from having to pee in the middle of the night. He yelps embarrassingly, freezes with his hand clutched over his chest, and then gives a dramatic sigh when he realises he's not about to be murdered and the fight-or-flight instinct starts fading out.

 

“The only thing I've got is an increased risk of heart attack, spiderling.”

 

“Sit down.” He does, immediately. “Wanda picked up on it and mentioned it to me. You were broadcasting rather loudly the last time you saw Pietro shirtless. She claims it was not anything she'd ever wanted to hear anyone think about her brother.” Natasha smirks when Clint blushes. “You're fucking with my sex life when my girlfriend gets distracted, Clint. Either move on to the mooning-over-the-boy-with-ice-cream part or just bed him already. Personally, I think you could both use it.”

 

“But I don't have a crush on him,” is all Clint can think of to say.

 

Natasha sighs, uncrosses her legs, and stands up. “Sure, and I don't have a girlfriend. I know you, same as you know me.”

 

And he does, really. Under different circumstances, he would have been greatly interested in her, but she'd needed a friend and coworker more than a fuck buddy. She ended up not being in guys, anyway, which was clearly something he can't say about himself in this situation. He's always known he batted for both teams, as the saying goes.

 

“I ate your Oreos,” Natasha tells him on her way out. Clint makes a wounded noise, knows there will be a replacement package at one of his favourite perching spots by tomorrow. They've almost always gotten along like that, strange as it is. He ends up falling asleep on the couch.

 

“Hey asshole,” he yells the next morning, after the second or fifth cup of coffee. And it works, because a moment later, Pietro is standing in front of him in a tank top and sweatpants. “I'll seriously bake you a cake if you do this right. Shopping list, a little corner store on 18th and 43rd.” He holds up a wad of cash, raising an eyebrow. Pietro snatches the money from his hand and the list from the fridge door, and he's back before Clint is done with his next coffee.

 

Clint takes a long sip of coffee as Pietro jitters from foot to foot. He can practically feel the contained energy and wonders what it could possibly take to get this kid to sit still for a minute. “Think you did okay?” he asks, and just smiles at the impatient, irritable response he gets. But just before he estimates Pietro will bolt off for real, he sets his coffee down and reaches for the grocery bags. “Pietro Maximoff. You got exactly what I asked you for, well done.”

 

Pietro's initial scowl melts into a confident smirk. “Of course I did, old man. And I want my cake.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. Let me finish my coffee first. You can preheat the oven to 350 if you're in a hurry to-”

 

Pietro does so, then disappears, Clint's half-eaten bagel going with him. Aw, bagel, no. He just grabs another one, tears off pieces one by one as he sets about dealing with the promised cake. It's not quite common for him to cook, since there are plenty of other people that prefer to do it more than he does, but he definitely knows his way around a kitchen.

 

“Jarvis, let Pietro know his cake's ready, huh? Thanks mate.” Clint grabs a soda from the fridge, pops the cap off on the countertop. He thinks he feels the whirl of a superhuman speeding by him as he goes toward the common area but ignores it. A few seconds later, both Maximoff twins are in the kitchen. Pietro probably came to scope things out and then went to get his sister. Whenever one of them gets food, the other one is soon brought into things.

 

A few of the other Avengers wander in not long after. From the bickering, Steve, Sam, and Tony just got out of a training session. He hears the twins quiet down a little, a reaction they still sometimes have when Stark walks into the room thanks to the whole bomb thing. But they're getting better about it, even if Clint instinctively gets up and joins the throng.

 

“Move,” he grumbles, jabbing Sam in the ribs with a finger and reaching up to snag a box of pop-tarts. Steve tries to steal one but Clint just gives him a flat look and points toward the cabinet full of other snack foods. Tony is already getting into them, and the blond leaves the others to wrangle him. Instead he sits up on the counter and pulls apart the silver wrapper.

 

“You've been amazing in training, lately,” Steve tells Pietro. “Make sure you take it easy for a few days.”

 

“Yeah, give me a chance to catch up with your high scores,” Clint complains from the other side of the kitchen.

 

Pietro rolls his eyes. “I will, Captain Rogers. Steve.” He's still in the habit of addressing his teammates by rank when it comes to mission related things, even if it's just discussing training. They don't mention it and he catches himself more often than not.

 

“Aw, who's a good boy? Pietro's a good boy!” Tony teases, ruffling the mutant's hair up. Pietro swats his hand away, glaring at him, and Clint snorts loud enough to be heard.

 

“Leave him alone, Stark,” he says. Since the other men are distracted with the food, he gives Tony a brief but very serious glare.

 

“Fine, fine. Ooh is that cake?”

 

“Cake, yes. For you, no. If you'd shown up to our team building exercise earlier, maybe you would've gotten some.” Clint gives Pietro a 'can you believe this guy' look that turns into a grin when the young man smiles at him.

 

The rest of the team starts to pick up on how Clint manages to get Pietro to do anything. Of course, Tony complains that everyone's okay with bribing their teammate into doing things, but Sam just puts his hand over his mouth to shut him up. But to the surprise of most of the team (Wanda and Natasha see it coming), Pietro decides to be finicky in his obedience of anyone but Clint. When they're not in the field or training, it's his decision if he'll give in to bribes or blackmail. And while he'll simply ignore some people, for Clint, he'll do what's asked of him every time.

 

It starts getting easier at work. The twins are coming to terms with their sort-of history with Tony, who finally realised he couldn't just throw money to make it go away. Clint will let them be in the same room together without adult supervision (ha, like any of the Avengers know that that's a thing, Sam and Nat are the only real adults since Bruce hides in the lab all the time). And as long as Loki stays away, Clint doesn't have nightmares, just worries about his family in general and breathes a sigh of relief each time they all make it home safe.

 

But far more importantly, the twins are starting to think of the Tower as a home. Clint recognises the steps, lets them take them on their own. And even Wanda, the quieter of the pair, is quicker to smile and even laugh these days. Pietro is completely at ease around them all, and even volunteers for press duty a few times. While he might not be their dad, he feels responsible for them, and not just because the hot older brother of the two kinda died for him once...

 

They train together a few times, and Pietro gets better and better. Usually he gives in to the temptation of using his speed to his advantage in fights, but Clint has been working with him on how to fight at a normal speed in case anything ever happens. “You're gonna hit the showers and do those stretches Sam showed you, right?” he asks, flicking the ring from the Gatorade cap at the other man.

 

“Yeah,” Pietro says with a tired grin, catching the plastic piece easily. “They help get rid of the soreness faster.”

 

“Good boy,” Clint tells him, ruffling his hair. “Your sister said she's gonna make dinner, so I'll help her with that after we get cleaned up.” He bends down to shove their sparring gear into his duffle. They all have access to the best that money can provide, cutting edge and shining new, but he still likes training with his worn stuff. In some ways he's just old-fashioned. “See you later.”

 

“See you,” Pietro echoes, and runs for the showers. Clint dumps his stuff in his quarters, showering himself after cleaning up the equipment. He pulls on a purple t-shirt and old, half-threadbare jeans, deciding not to bother with shoes. Even though his outfit looks like it's about to fall off him, it's insanely comfortable, something he knows from experience. After bandaging a few places that Pietro had accidentally hit too hard, he takes the elevator to the common floor.

 

“That smells amazing,” he says as soon as the doors open, beelining for the source of the scent. “What's that?”

 

“Dinner,” Wanda says with a smile. “Where's Pietro?”

 

“Still in the showers, I guess. I told him you were making food. That always gets him to show up in no time, right?”

 

“Usually.” Wanda frowns slightly for a moment, then shrugs. “He'll be fine. What can happen in the Tower?” Nothing, realistically, but they've both worried about him since he took his first gasping breath after Sokovia.

 

“I'll go tell him to stop being such a slacker,” Clint suggests, grabbing an apple from the fruit basket. “Yo, Jarvis, where's Pietro?” The AI directs him toward the showers attached to the gym they'd been in earlier. Clint takes a bite out of his apple, wandering across the training mats. “Hey, asshole, me and your sister are waiting for you!” he yells. No answer, but hell if he knows whether or not Pietro can hear him from out here.

 

From what he sees in the shower, Pietro had no idea he was there. He's got his head tipped back as he jerks off, making little breathy moans that go right to Clint's own cock. It's probably wrong on a lot of different levels – they're coworkers, he's old enough to be the kid's father, Wanda seems him as a dad – but for a second all he can think about is his desire to get in that shower with him. And then Pietro gives a stifled whimper of his name and comes all over his hand. Clint's frozen.

 

And then Pietro opens his eyes. He's relaxed and pliant for a second, but then comes the embarrassment of getting caught jacking off, for just a second before he realises just who caught him. Pietro freezes, blush dropping into pallor. “I didn't... I didn't mean to...”

 

“I think we should talk when you're done with your shower. I'm gonna be on the training mats. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't run out on me.” Clint doesn't know what to say besides that and just sort of backs out. This is hardly a turn of events he's not on board with, because _hello_ , Pietro is gorgeous and funny and way out of his league. But it was his name on the Sokovian's tongue when he came, and he just prays to whoever's out there that that means something.

 

Pietro comes out just a few minutes later, wearing sweatpants and a long-sleeved blue shirt. He plays with the hem nervously, a worried tic that Clint recognises. Despite his anxiety, he's beautiful, and Clint just really wants to kiss him. But he's gotta figure some of this out first, even he knows that. Because if there's one thing Clint Barton can do, it's destroy relationships.

 

He leans against the fridge, waits for the other man to come out. When Pietro sees him still standing there, his shoulders sag slightly, and he slowly comes over. Neither of them say anything for a long moment before Clint breaks the silence between them. “How long?”

 

“I... I don't know. A long time, I think, but I only realised it when we were done sparring this afternoon. That what I felt when you approved of me was different from when the others did. From even when Wanda did. I realised I wanted to make you proud... to make you like me...”

 

“You thought I didn't like you?”

 

“Not the way I wanted you to.”

 

“We can talk about this or we can part ways and both forget it ever happened. This is the part where you make that choice.”

 

“I think I want you to go.”

 

Okay, that hadn't been what he was expecting. “Why?”

 

“Because I have never been loved like that. Nobody has ever looked at me and found me desirable. I have always been alone. And I always will be.”

 

“Fuck that,” Clint growls, deep and possessive. He shoves Pietro back, pins his wrists against the wall, and kisses him with all he's got. “ _I want you_. You're desirable to me, you got it? You're not alone, you're not. Not as long as you want me.” He lets go of Pietro, takes a step back. Wonders if maybe he came on too strong. But Pietro presses forward, pulls him closer with hands in his hair and a tongue in his mouth.

 

“You like being the center of attention, don't you? You like people saying good things about you? I know you do, I know how desperate you are for any fucking scrap of approval because you feel like you'll never belong in the family you want more than anything. 'Cause you're me, baby, you're just like I was once. But thing is, you got someone here for you. I want you. I want you to be mine, just mine, for a damn long time.”

 

“Please,” Pietro whispers, trembling. His breath comes in fast pants against Clint's neck. “I want – I _need_ to belong. Somewhere, anywhere.”

 

“Sh, sh, sh. It's okay, honey, it's okay. You belong in this Tower with these teammates no matter what. And you belong with me, too, all right? You always have somewhere to belong. Right now it's with me.”

 

“Are you sure?” Pietro asks. He sounds fragile, uncertain, and even younger than he really is.

 

“I love you,” Clint replies. He admits it to himself, admits it to the guy who might possibly be his new boyfriend. And Pietro just nods a little, taking him at his word. “I love you,” Clint replies, and kisses him again, soft and gentle and asking permission. Pietro gives it to him, and the blond slips a hand up under his shirt, pressing close and wanting him. He wants to prove the young man's not alone, to map out every inch of his skin, make him forget his fears of being left behind. But the Sokovian is like a half-bloomed flower. Clint needs to be soft with it to encourage it to open any more. Skipping to the sex part would be very enjoyable physically, but Pietro - despite being so capable - is delicate in the archer's eyes. 

 

So he kisses his neck, nips ever so gently at the hollow of this throat, keeps up a soothing litany of "you're not alone, I love you, I wouldn't leave you." Pietro clearly likes kissing him, and Clint has very few objections himself, but he still puts a finger over the other man's lips when he tries to kiss him once again. "We're gonna go have dinner, and then we're gonna go and talk all this out, okay?" 

 

"Okay," Pietro agrees after a moment's reluctance. Clint offers him his hand, he accepts, and they walk toward the elevator. 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Pietro is distracted during dinner. And Clint's pretty sure a few of their teammates pick up on it. He knows Wanda gives them surreptitious little looks all through the evening. They hadn't been holding hands when they walked out of the elevator, but she'd clearly picked up that something had changed between them. Twintuition, Pietro's jokingly called it in the past.

 

He lets Pietro dart off from the dinner table but stays for a few minutes to help Wanda with clean-up. They work, for the most part, in amiable silence. Once the few leftovers are stored and a good half of the dishes are washed and sitting in the dish drainer, she tosses him a hand towel.

 

“Go rescue my brother,” she teases. Then her smile fades a little. “Please, Clint... be gentle with him.”

 

“How could I not?” Clint asks, spreading his hands helplessly. “He's...”

 

“I know,” she answers, and Clint thinks he might really understand her for the first time. He drops the towel on the counter and goes to the elevator, waiting until the doors close to ask Jarvis to take him wherever Pietro is.

 

The doors open on the training room again. Pietro is laying on his back on the mats, staring at the ceiling until he hears the door and turns his head to look. “Hi,” he says quietly.

 

“Hey.” Clint wanders over and lays down next to him, folding his hands over his stomach. “Your sister is a pretty good cook.” Pietro's quiet, for once in his life since he almost died, and doesn't respond. “I think I did pretty good with that cake last time, don't you?”

 

“Yeah,” Pietro says, a few heartbeats after the silence stretched on for too long. This isn't what Clint is used to seeing from him, but he kind of likes that. It's a new side, one he doesn't trust the rest of the team with, or maybe this is just who he really is and the rest of it is just a front. Clint understands both of those.

 

“I meant everything I said before dinner. And all the times before that, every time I praised you, I meant that too. You're a solid part of this team, you keep it running. And you're pretty important to me, too. I don't say that to a lot of people. Just Tasha, really, and Coulson.”

 

“Why am I important to you, Clint? If I hadn't saved your life in Sokovia, what would I be to you?”

 

“My friend and teammate, just like your sister is. Though you're decidedly more attractive, just to throw that out there. But we'd get here in the end anyway.”

 

“How are you so sure?” Pietro looks genuinely puzzled at Clint's insistence, for which the archer can't blame him.

 

“For one thing, you are way too good-looking for me to not hit on you. But you're also kind to your sister, and you watch out for the team. You're selfless, when it really comes down to it, you'd sacrifice yourself for another stranger if it was the right thing to do. You're patient with kids and you joke with everyone, even those asshole reporters. I think you just really like to laugh and make other people laugh too. And when you see something new that makes you curious or excited, it's like... your face just lights up. I want to put that look on your face every damn day. I've never seen anything like that. You're just beautiful.”

 

“I think you see a lot more in me than I do.”

 

“That's all right. You probably see a lot more in me than I ever will,” Clint admits. Pietro just shrugs, but the blond's pretty sure that's his I-kind-of-want-to-smile-but-I'm-not-sure-if-it's-appropriate face. He doesn't wait to find out, just moves a little closer, gives the other man time to move away, and leans to kiss him. As he'd suspected, the slight tension in Pietro's body disappears in moments.

 

“I still don't know why you said you loved me,” Pietro says when Clint draws back. “I'm not... I haven't...”

 

“Because it was the truth. Do you want to be with me?”

 

“More than anyone I've known.”

 

“Then we can talk about things. Get to know each other better, start figuring out what we want from each other, all that adult stuff. But I'm not gonna stop being friends with you, even if something more serious falls through. Okay?”

 

“Okay,” Pietro agrees, sounding relieved. Then his natural snark comes back, Clint can tell that from the look on him even before he opens his mouth again. “You're sure you can keep up with me, old man?”

 

Clint laughs, and the former seriousness dissolves. Pietro is smirking, proud of himself, and the archer kisses that smirk into a smile, then keeps kissing him. It's been a while since he's been this interested in someone, but the fact that the other seems to have equal feelings reassures him. He's still sort of expecting things to get turned on their head, but for now, he can shove those thoughts to the side.

 

They lay on the mats for a long time, hands exploring skin. And the feeling of Pietro under him, of finding out he's soft and hard and intoxicating, is more than enough reward for all the days Clint spent trying to figure him out. Since they're still in one of the common rooms, they keep their clothes on, but he kind of likes it better that way. He wants to take things slow, to give them both time to being used to each other. He has no doubt he'll love Pietro as much next week, month, or year as he does now.

 

So they kiss and talk and bicker in training. They're terrified when the other gets hurt in the field, look forward to spending nights throwing popcorn at the tv, and inevitably get in trouble when they're assigned to work on something together. Clint never throws away his trash, Pietro never washes his dishes. But somehow, the jagged pieces help them round each other out, like a mosaic of broken bottles. It's sharp but beautiful.

 

Wanda and Natasha are the first ones they tell, the next morning. Pietro's the one to break the news, as he makes coffee wearing Clint's hoodie and is so nervously distracted that he almost pours in salt instead of sugar. Natasha gives him a firm nod of approval, Wanda squeals at the top of her lungs and hugs him hard enough there's no breath left in his lungs. They never really share with the rest of the team, it just sort of happens on its own. One day Clint realises that they're snuggling and feeding each other popcorn during move night and none of their friends bat an eye despite never being told anything.

 

Maybe it will never lead to a ring and two-and-a-half kids and a picket fence. Maybe they die the day before tomorrow. But Clint loves Pietro, and Pietro loves Clint, and in the end, that's all that truly matters to either of them. (It leads to a private ceremony and a baby girl they love more than anything, and Natasha would die for her goddaughter, Alianovna Barton-Maximoff, who has dark hair and eyes and begs to dance ballet with her and Wanda.)

 

**Author's Note:**

> Totally based on this post - http://dollydork.tumblr.com/post/118373519307/pietro-is-a-cocky-boy-hes-egocentric-snarky-and


End file.
